


is it too soon? (to know that I'm with you)

by iwantthemtostay, slitheredherefromeden



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, mail order bride au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwantthemtostay/pseuds/iwantthemtostay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/slitheredherefromeden/pseuds/slitheredherefromeden
Summary: Unable to get back to Canada from Ukraine, Tessa finds help from a surprising source. Meanwhile, Scott gets an unwanted push from his brothers.Somehow, things end up working out.
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Comments: 110
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Long ago, in November 2019, your authors were at Niagara Falls. C was quite cold and her wife bought her a ridiculous but warm hat. After taking a romantic photo of them, T announced that she looked like a Russian bride (not a babushka as had been previously mentioned) and, quick as a flash, C’s wife declared “VM mail order bride au for your next project!” And thus, an idea was born in your authors’ heads. This story is a lot lighter (and maybe a bit wackier) than redemption, and we hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much to our friends for all their help and encouragement.

** _October 2010_ **

At this very point in time — a windy October night in Kharkiv— Tessa Virtue knows one thing for absolute certain: she will never forgive Sasha.

It doesn’t matter that she knows, logically, that she will make it back home, that she will find a new partner, that she will be  _ okay _ , because the only things that do matter are the facts at hand.

One: Sasha has given up skating, despite the fact that she moved to Ukraine just so they could compete for his country. Two: Sasha has  _ left the country _ so that he can marry the man of his dreams (something that wouldn’t bother Tessa quite so much if it weren’t for the third and most important matter). Three: in his haste to leave as fast as he could, Sasha took her skate bag with him meaning Tessa has no passport, no wallet, no phone, and no keys. 

For lack of a better description, Tessa is fucked.

She slumps down on the stoop of her building, fingers coming up to rub at her temples, the migraine that’s been building since this whirlwind afternoon throbbing so intensely that her vision is starting to blur. It’s too late now to go back to the rink but she also has no way to get into her studio and nowhere to sleep. Would the Canadian embassy even be open at this time of night? Would the Canadian embassy even  _ help _ since she’s renounced her citizenship? Even so, there’s the small matter of the embassy being in Kiev and she has no way to get there.

Sitting up straight, Tessa takes a deep breath in. She holds it in her chest for eight seconds before releasing it. She’s getting ahead of herself. All she needs to do is find somewhere to spend the night. In the morning, she will make her way back to the rink, talk to the coach who hasn’t run off with her skating partner, and they will figure this out.

Now more than ever she wishes she’d gotten more serious about learning Ukrainian. If she had, perhaps the elderly lady who lived beneath her would let her stay or let her use her phone. Not that Tessa has  _ any _ number memorized except her childhood landline which is useless to her now. God, she knew she shouldn’t have started relying on her phone so much.

Tears well up in her eyes and it just makes Tessa angrier and her head ache more than it did before. No. This is not going to happen. She will not sit here, engaging in some pity party with herself as night and little snow flurries fall properly over the city. She is smart. She is resourceful. She may not have friends here or speak the language but she is going to get through this night and then she is going to get back to Ontario.

Pulling her hair from the messy bun it’s been in all day, Tessa stands up with her shoulders squared. 

It’s time to get back home.

—

It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and Scott is hungover. He hasn’t done this in a while, certainly not on a night where he had to work the next day, and he feels like he’s dying. The lights in the shop are blinding (he’s seriously regretting moving to the new bright and airy location), his throat and mouth feel like all the deserts in the world have taken up residence in his body, and his head feels like little miners (77 dwarves maybe) are chipping away at him. The sound of the blade sharpener isn’t helping, but thank fuck it’s Paul operating it today and not him. That could have ended very badly. 

All that being said, he thinks he’s done an okay job at work today. Thankfully there haven’t been too many customers so he could work on inventory in the dark back room and the kid he’s dealing with now is one he knows well from the rink which makes life a lot easier. 

“How are those boots feeling, Leah? Can you wiggle your toes?” There’s only a little croak in his voice, it could be a cold. He’s sure he looks like he could be sick as it is.

Leah frowns, her sandy hair falling over her face. “Are you sure it was a good idea to put them in the oven?”

“I know it sounds a bit silly, but that’s how we get the best fit for you.” He hadn’t been trusted with the oven either today.

“Scott knows what he’s doing, honey,” Leah’s mom says. She winks at him in a way that seems very friendly. More friendly than he knows what to do with while he currently feels like death.

He hears Cara clearing her throat and when he looks up to where she’s restocking the tights she makes a cutting gesture across her neck. He’s going to take that as a subtle hint not to get involved here. 

“How about you take a walk around and see how they feel?” 

As he’s watching Leah walk around with her arms held out at either side, the bell over the door rings and Charlie steps in. His brother looks worse than he does, wringing his hands, his face grey, and Scott is basically already ushering him towards the room at the back as Cara takes over with their customer. 

Scott keeps an arm steady on his brother's back. He hopes to God something hasn't happened to Nicole or the baby, that's the news they’d been celebrating last night. 

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Charlie says, “We did something stupid last night, Scott. Me and Danny.”

Scott reviews his memories of last night in his head, they’d just been in Danny’s living room, nothing crazy had happened. Unless they bought something online? “Did you buy a sports car? Or some really expensive Maple Leafs merch?” He doesn’t think Nicole would be too impressed with the baby on the way. 

He thinks he hears his brother mutter, “I wish.” Charlie rubs his eyes. “It, uh, it’s more to do with you actually.” Shit. “You know when we were chirping you about being single?”

Scott nods. He doesn’t know why they’re making such a big deal of it now that they’re both married. He’s younger than they are and he’s in no rush. He’s only going to get married once so he’s willing to wait for the right person. And until then he can have some fun. 

“Well, while you were in the bathroom we were looking stuff up on the laptop and…”

“Not dating websites again? Not Christian Mingle!” He’d got some really strange messages when they’d signed him up to that one after he split with Jess. 

“I’m really sorry, Scott.” Charlie presses his palms tightly against each other. “But we, uh…” He speaks very slowly and then incredibly fast. “We signed you up for a mail order bride and she’s due in Toronto tomorrow.”

It takes Scott a few seconds to process the words coming out of his brother’s mouth, and then he bursts out laughing. But Charlie doesn’t join in, and he’s not that good a liar. The laughter dies in Scott’s throat, replaced by a burning sensation. “You’re joking, right? You have to be joking.” He can’t get  _ married _ . To a mail order bride. Do those things even really exist? Where is she even from?

Charlie shakes his head. “We’ve tried cancelling it, but apparently she’s on a flight from the Ukraine already.” Scott mentally corrects him that it’s just Ukraine, not the Ukraine, but that is totally irrelevant right now because his stupid, idiot brothers have bought him a wife?! “If, uh, if it helps, we picked one that looked really like that ice dancer you had a thing for…”

“That doesn’t fucking help!!” What this woman does or doesn’t look like is so,  _ so _ far down on the list of things he’s thinking about right now, it might as well be all the way in Ukraine. “I can’t get married,” Scott yells before wincing at his own volume. It looks like it hurts Charlie too and that almost makes it worth it. “I want to find an ice dance partner, not a life partner!” He starts pacing the floor, moving around all the boxes of skates with an ease he didn’t have this morning. “I don’t speak Ukrainian! We need to stop this! A mail order  _ fucking _ bride?!” 

The door swings open, his mom standing there with her arms crossed. “A mail order  _ what _ ?”

—

Tessa is about to head down the street, to where she’s not quite sure yet, when her neighbour appears, carrying her shopping. Tessa almost knocks her over with how fast she walks up. She opens her mouth but all that comes out is what she thinks is the Ukrainian word for “help.” The rest of the vocabulary she needs just isn’t there. She doesn’t have much more than a handful of skating terms in addition to please, thank you, hello, goodbye, faster, stronger, and sorry, it’s time for our music now. 

She tries for approximations of things that might be correct but probably aren’t, eventually switching to English, which just seems to leave her neighbour more confused until she finally takes hold of Tessa hands and says, “English?” Tessa nods rapidly and the woman shakes her hands. “Marina. Marina English.” And then she’s tugging Tessa down the street, stopping only to give Tessa one of her grocery bags to carry.

She wonders if she’s being led to her death, but she doesn’t have many options right now and if there’s any chance this Marina speaks English it’s probably worth a shot. They walk for about ten minutes, her neighbour chattering away like the more words she tries the more likely Tessa might be to understand. Truthfully it’s just adding to the anxiety bubbling up inside her. Tessa knows she could get back to her studio from here but it’s getting even later now and the cold is starting to seep into her bones. She wishes she could tell her neighbor to just quiet down for a moment but Tessa suspects that would do more harm than good. 

Her neighbor turns to her, waiting for a response, and all Tessa can do is nod which seems to appease the older woman. They reach a neat little house not too far from Shevchenko Park. It doesn’t look like a murder house, but maybe that’s what makes it a good one.

Her neighbour knocks on the door and they wait. Tessa can’t tell if it really takes forever or if she’s just so on edge that every second feels like an eternity, but finally the door opens and a woman with long brown hair and blunt bangs stands before them. There’s somehow a stateliness about her even though she’s dressed in a dark blue dressing gown and holding a yappy Pomeranian. After a rapid fire conversation with Tessa’s neighbor, the woman, who has to be Marina, turns to Tessa. “You are American, yes?”

In her relief at hearing English Tessa almost says yes, but she could never go along with that, not even in this dreadful state of affairs. “Canadian, but I speak English, yes.”

Marina’s eyes seem to light up at the mention of Canada and she places the dog over in Tessa’s free arm, beginning to clap with what can only be described as glee. “And do you want go back there? Tomorrow?”

Tessa could cry. Is she dreaming? Surely this is too good to be true? “Yes, please.” She’s nodding so much that she probably looks like a bobble head. “I want to go home.”

Marina flings open the door and ushers her in. Tessa pauses to give her neighbor her shopping but more importantly to hug her tightly and repeat “Thank you,” as many times as she physically can in one breath. Her neighbour nods, satisfied, and waves before heading back home. 

Once they’re under the hall lights, Marina takes a deep breath and reaches out her hand to Tessa’s face. Instinct kicks in and she moves back which makes Marina click her tongue, something like a scowl sent in Tessa’s direction. She stands still when Marina reaches out again. She’s not sure if it’s because she’s been outside so long that her face has gone colder than normal, but Marina’s touch almost feels like a burn. “I can’t believe it. You look just like her! Prettier, but maybe that is better nutrition.” 

What the fuck? She blinks. “I’m sorry, I look like who?” 

No answer comes but Marina looks nearly giddy as she walks down the hall.

Even though she’s wondering if she might be on something, Tessa follows Marina into an office. It’s fairly standard except for all the guidebooks and wedding dress magazines, and the obnoxious Florida poster on the wall. “The girl whose ticket you will use. She decided she did not want to go marry nice man in Toronto but to stay home instead!” Marina clicks her tongue. “Says she can’t leave her mother.”

“Marry?!” Tessa didn’t know her voice could sound so squeaky. She looks down at the dog in her arm, as if the animal will somehow help her make sense of this.

Marina pauses looking through the paper file she has open. “Yes. I run an international marriage service.” She widens her eyes. “You may be more familiar with the term mail order bride?”

Tessa falls down onto the couch, hugging the dog closer. “I don’t… I didn’t think I’d have to marry anyone.” She should’ve known there would be a catch, especially since it doesn’t seem like Marina plans to murder her. 

“You thought I’d send you home out of the kindness of my heart?” Marina scoffs. “No, everything has a price… What was your name?”

“Tessa.” She swallows hard. “I don’t need you to send me home. I just really could use somewhere to sleep tonight? Until I can reach one of my coaches or you could act as a translator for me, with the police? I promise I would pay you back as soon as I got things settled.” The one coach she trusted has abandoned her however. And Olga and Galina are away with the juniors and would probably just blame Sasha leaving on those ten pounds she hasn’t lost when they came back anyway. 

Marina looks like she’s considering this, so much so that Tessa’s hopes foolishly begin to rise. But then, she laughs. “I don’t need money. But I do need to send someone to Toronto in,” she checks her watch, a large, gaudy thing, “five hours.”

“But I don’t want to get married!” She can’t get married. Her sweater feels scratchy all of a sudden, a bit like her exhausted eyes. She’s so fucking tired.

Marina raises her eyes to heaven. “I am not expecting you to get married. I need to send someone on that plane, and you need to get there. It works for both of us, no? Much better than sitting on some park bench and freezing to death? Or worse? Or a night in some jail cell while police try and find translator for you? Police who do not like foreigners?” Tessa nods, a little reluctantly. Marina is right but this whole thing leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. It feels like this should all be a bad dream, that if she screws her eyes shut tight and then opens them wide enough she’ll wake up to her alarm ready for a five am practice. “Though, if you do like this man and want to marry him it would save me work later on.” Marina turns towards the computer and starts clicking. “He is young, handsome, his brothers said very nice things about him in profile…”

“No, I think I’m good, thanks,” Tessa hurries the words out. She isn’t exactly convinced about how young and handsome this guy will be. Is young for these types fifty? Forty?

She shouldn’t do this. She should walk out right now and take her chances. Maybe she can find a traveler who speaks English… And hope they don’t want to kill her or abduct her. Tessa chews on her bottom lip. At least Marina doesn’t want to kill her.

“You never know when love will find you,” Marina intones. She lifts her left hand dramatically, “When a man loves a woman,” and then her right, “and a woman loves a man,” before clasping them together, “it is a powerful thing.” She hangs her head before lifting it up. “Also men and men and women and women but market is not as developed there yet. That is in my ten year plan.” 

“That’s, uh, good to hear.” Tessa pets the dog.

“That is Fedor, he is very good boy,” Marina coos, her voice raising an octave or two as she waves at her dog. “Better than my other son, Fedor. I thought he would help with family business from America, but no! He went to work in an Abercrombie Fitch store! Stands outside in the cold with his shirt off! He could have done that in Kharkiv and I wouldn’t have had to pay his visa!” 

Jesus. What is happening right now? “I’m… sorry?” 

“You look like good girl, you would not disappoint your mother like that.” Marina pauses from removing a photograph from a page in front of her. “Why are you in Ukraine? And why do you want to go home?”

“I’m a figure skater and I came over to skate with someone. But he left with my things so… I need a way back.” She runs her hand over Fedor the dog’s soft fur. 

“Figure skater?” Marina’s eyes gleam and she looks at the computer and back at Tessa.

“Is that a good thing?” She really hopes she isn’t going to try and marry her off.

“Maybe. Not important. What is important is we take photograph of you for your new visa.” Marina takes out a camera and gestures for Tessa to stand up.

“I’ll be travelling under false papers?!” That’s definitely illegal.

Marina arches an eyebrow. “Do you have your own to travel with?”

Tessa shakes her head and goes to stand by the wall. She knows that this is all so risky, her body is shaking with it, but she needs to go home. She wants to be with her mom and her sister, to be curled up in her own bed away from people who don’t understand her and only want her for her skating. So, she smiles for the camera and hopes against hope that somehow this will work out. 

—

Scott feels like he could throw up again.

He already did this morning when his alarm went off, then once more in the shower, a dry heave coming when he read the text from his mom reminding him to dress nicely. 

Thank god he had convinced her to let him go alone to the airport. He can’t imagine how weird this must be for the woman he’s meeting. Had she ever been abroad before? Would she understand navigating the airport if she didn’t know any English or French? Add his  _ very _ concerned mother to that list and Scott can’t imagine anything more overwhelming.

His palms are near dripping they’re so clammy and he scrubs them up and down on his jeans in an effort to dry them. Should he have made some sort of sign? He’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to know who — he pulls out his phone to double check her name — Natalia is. Does she know what he looks like? Maybe he should’ve let Charlie show him the website. There had to be some sort of instruction letter to all this. 

Phone still in hand, he quickly taps out his mom’s number. “I’m freaking out,” he says in lieu of a proper greeting, going down to sit in one of the adirondack chairs lined up in front of the Arrivals doors when it becomes apparent that his legs are not going to stop shaking. “Mom, what do I  _ do _ ? What do I say to her?! I don’t even know what she looks like!”

“Didn’t Dan say she looked like that Virtue girl you liked?” comes his mom’s completely unhelpful response.

He swallows hard against the lump in his throat, willing himself to not give into the churning in his stomach. “I can’t do this.” He needs to leave. He has to get out of here.

His mom clicks her tongue. “You are  _ not _ going to leave that poor woman there, Scott! She’s in a strange country where she knows no one. We have a responsibility to help her get on her feet since your brothers decided to bring her over.”

“Right,” Scott nods, trying and failing to keep his voice down, “so shouldn’t they be the ones here?!”

“Listen, I know your brothers are idiots, but you do not speak to me that way, Scott Patrick Moir.” Great. Now his nausea is mixed with guilt. “I’m going to call Charlie and have him send you a photo of… what was her name again? Natalie?”

“Natalia.”

“Right. That way you’ll at least know her when you see her. And when you get her, you’ll bring her home and we will go from there. All you have to do is be the good man I know you are.” His mom is right. After all, it’s not as though a priest will be with her and marry them on the spot. He just needs to be a friend. A kind stranger helping someone out.

He lets out a long, noisy breath, his whole body deflating. “Thanks, Ma.”

His phone vibrates in his palm soon after they hang up but Scott doesn’t bother checking the text he’s sure is from Charlie because right across from him stands Tessa Virtue.

—

Tessa is freaking out.

She'd managed her three flights (just about) with the help of the free alcohol (just enough to take the edge off and none on her last flight) and the wordsearch book Marina had pressed into her hands in the airport in Kharkiv. She'd even somehow made it through customs, using Marina’s advice to smile, nod, and say please and thank you a lot. 

But now she's almost at Arrivals and she's going to have to meet this man who’s expecting to take his future wife home and explain that that won't be happening. What if he just grabs her? She's considering going over to the airport security and explaining the situation but then she’ll probably end up in jail for travelling under a false name. At least then she'd have somewhere to stay and access to a phone though. That is if they don’t send her back to Kharkiv immediately.

She doesn't even know how she's meant to recognise this guy, all she knows is his name. And she can't just go around asking people if they're called Scott, that could be anyone. She should have looked at that profile picture. Marina should have given her  _ some _ sort of instruction on how to meet up with this man! It is her business at stake anyway. The only detail she has about this man’s appearance is that he's likely to be wearing plaid which is great except this is Canada and everyone wears fucking plaid. 

Tessa will just have to hope that she looks enough like runaway bride Natalia for this Scott to recognise her. 

She's starting to get antsy after ten minutes of walking around Arrivals. Has the guy changed his mind or is he just one of any number of middle-aged men milling about? Is it unfair to assume it’s a middle aged man? She spent a lot of time thinking about this on the plane. Tessa doesn’t like to make assumptions but surely someone young isn’t jaded enough to think this is what he needs to do to end up with someone. She also really,  _ really _ hopes this man isn’t a pervert but, again, she doesn’t really understand what kind of man would go down such a route if he weren’t.

And then she sees a familiar face. She's torn between walking right up to him and running away because while she's sure Scott Moir would help her, she doesn't want to have to explain the whole sorry tale to someone she'd had a crush on for most of her teenage years (and still might, he looks very good dressed a little fancy). But he’d always seemed like a good guy and she needs a kind face right now. He might even be able to help her get home, he lives in a town not too far from London if she remembers correctly.

She hangs around a little while he talks on the phone, trying not to make it look like she’s waiting on him. Tessa fiddles with the ring on her finger, twisting it anxiously as her eyes keep scanning the crowd, waiting for someone to call out a name that isn’t hers, but she is sure to ground herself with Scott every other moment or so. His face is grey and she wonders if she should maybe leave him alone after all. He looks like he's going through something. 

When he does finally see her his mouth opens in a perfect ‘o’ shape and he stands up immediately and walks towards her. Her knees tremble a bit, like she's ready to either cry or kiss him (not the time to think about how good that had been the night they both medalled at Junior Nationals when they’d stayed up late talking and he’d kissed her sweetly just before she went up to bed, or, the more recent, more intense, time they’d made out at Sectionals in 2007). 

“Tessa,” he says, making her name sound wonderful and familiar and real and  _ her.  _ It's like someone is finally seeing her for who she is and she feels, not for the first time, that she could cry. “What brings you to the airport?” 

She can’t quite formulate an answer, she has no idea where to begin, so Scott just keeps talking, starts to fill in the blanks. “You were on that flight from Ukraine, I guess? Long journey I’m sure. Are you coming home for a visit? You waiting for family then?” He keeps nodding, as if she’s actually giving him answers to confirm any of the questions he’s thrown out at her. The way he keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, his hands moving beneath the pockets of his coat seem normal but he’s not keeping his eyes on her at all while he talks, choosing instead to look around the Arrivals area (which she has to admit to doing as well. God, she hopes the Scott waiting for her doesn’t approach them). And while she doesn’t know Scott terribly well, he’s never been like this when they’ve spoken before. He’s always paused to listen in the past. “How are you finding it out there? I saw you medalled at Finlandia, that’s so impressive with the short time you’ve been skating together! What’s Ukraine like? Do they have good food? What  _ is _ the food like? Do a lot of people speak English there? Do you speak much Ukrainian?”

Holy shit. She knew Scott was a talker, but this is excessive. He’s still talking but Tessa doesn’t even hear it anymore. The nervousness radiating from his body makes her own anxiety grow and grow until it bubbles over and suddenly she’s cutting him off. “I had to leave,” she exclaims before realizing that she probably shouldn’t shout that she’s here on false papers and her voice drops to something akin to a stage whisper, the whole story spilling out as she hides her face in her hands. “My partner took off with our coach and he had my passport and my phone and my keys and I had no way of contacting anyone or getting home and I don’t know enough Ukrainian to survive on my own, so I met this lady who spoke English but who runs a mail order bride business and she sent me over here and now I’m worried that the guy who thinks he’s going to marry me is about to show up and try to take me home with him.”

Scott is eerily silent after that and Tessa drops her hands to make sure that he hadn’t just left her like Sasha had. He hasn’t, he’s still right in front of her, just blinking at her, probably trying to take in all that she said, and then he says, “I think I’m the guy you’re worried about.” 

“What?” That doesn’t make any sense. “You’re not… I mean, his name is Scott too, but… You’re Scott Moir.” He’s young, and attractive, and can talk to women. He’d actually been kind of cocky back when she knew him, but she couldn’t fault him for that when she knew what a special skater he was. “You don’t…” She takes a step back. “Why do you want a mail order bride?”

He looks very offended. “I don’t  _ want _ one!” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends a little before shoving his hands back into his pockets, his hair left unkempt. “My brothers got me one.” 

Her brow furrows. “For what? An early Christmas present?” Not for the first time, she feels kind of bad for the girl who was meant to be coming here. “I don’t know what your family is okay with, but I’m sure these women are very nice and lovely, not objects to be got.”

“I know that!” She’s glad he sounds sincere, even if he does also sound tired. “I’m sure they’re wonderful! I just… that isn’t how I want to get married.”

Tessa crosses her arms over her chest. “Then why did your brothers make you a profile?”

A new flood of people come out of Arrivals and it doesn’t take long for people to start crowding, one family nearly running over her toes with their luggage cart. Scott tilts his head towards the back wall and they weave through people until they find reprieve next to a vending machine. “Both my brothers are married now, and we were celebrating the news that one of them is going to be a dad, so… we had some drinks.” He cringes. “A lot of drinks. And my brothers were teasing me about still being single, and apparently when I was in the bathroom they put me up on that website and chose a girl who looked…” He pushes his hair back with his hand, boot tapping the corner of the vending machine. “Anyway, the first thing I heard about it was when my brother told me the next day that she… you, I guess, were on the plane. Which doesn’t even make sense, how did it happen so fast?”

“Marina, the lady who runs the website, is a very formidable woman. That bit I understand.” No wonder the other girl had dropped out, she probably didn’t have enough time to get used to the idea. 

Scott rubs his temple. “This is all such a mess. I’m really sorry you were involv- Wait, did you say your partner abandoned you in Ukraine and stole your stuff?!”

He sounds absolutely outraged and it’s weirdly touching. Almost enough to make her smile. “Well, to be fair, I don’t think he meant to take my things. They were just in my skate bag and when he was leaving, he sort of grabbed everything, I guess?” She’s never going to put her things down by anyone else’s in a rink  _ ever _ again. If she can find another partner. Again. Tessa rubs the back of her neck, fingers focusing on the tight muscles. Maybe this is the universe once again telling her to stop skating.

Her explanation appears to have done nothing to calm Scott down. “But he left you in a country where you don’t know people! Or the language! After he brought you over there to skate with him!” He shakes his head, worries his bottom lip to the point that Tessa’s scared he’ll break the skin. “That’s horrible! Absolutely awful and horrible and I’m so sorry.” Scott straightens and seems to fully take her in for the first time since they’ve started talking. She must look terrible. There had been no sleeping on any of the flights for her, too high strung to relax even a little bit. She must’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours now. He frowns. “And I’ve just been standing here going on about my stupid brothers!” Scott reaches out and tentatively puts a hand on her shoulder. It takes every ounce of strength she has not to just fall against him. “What can I do to help?” 

She  _ knew _ he was a good guy. “It helps that it’s you here and not some creepy old man, so… maybe I should thank your brothers?” 

Scott shakes his head vigorously. “Please don’t do that. I’m also very glad you’re not meeting some creepy old man, but… This should not be encouraged.” He stands up straighter and squeezes her shoulder. “You must want to go home. It’s London, right? I could give you a ride if you want. And here, use my phone to call your mom.” 

Tessa hands it back, biting her lip so that she doesn’t cry. “Thank you, but I don’t actually know her number off by heart.” As soon as Tessa meets up with her mom again, she’s memorizing her number  _ and _ Jordan’s. “But if you could drive me there I’d be so grateful.”

His lips quirk up to one side, a smile that’s so comforting she tries to take a mental picture of it. “It’s the very least I can do.” He looks around. “Do you have any other luggage?”

“No, just this.” She holds up the old rucksack Marina had given her filled with basics and some spare clothes that Tessa is relieved she won’t have to wear. 

Scott takes the rucksack and hauls it over his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.” 

—

He’s not surprised that Tessa falls asleep shortly after they get on the 401. She had looked exhausted and he has no doubt that she’s probably had even less sleep than he’s had the past day and a half. He’s glad too, that she feels comfortable enough to rest with him.

Radio kept down low, Scott relaxes into his seat for the drive back home. This entire situation is still unbelievably crazy. Tessa Virtue is his mail order bride? None of that sentence makes sense. It sounds like the ravings of a mad man! At least he won’t actually have to get married, he thinks with a sigh. Not that it would be so awful to be married to someone like Tessa. He’s sure he could do  _ a lot _ worse but he doesn’t actually know her all that well. 

(He ignores, for the time being, that he would really love the chance to know her that well.)

His phone buzzes for the umpteenth time in his cupholder and a quick glance shows his mom’s name pop up on the screen. Calling her before they pulled onto the road would’ve been a smart idea on his part but it seems like no Moir brother is using their brain this week. There’s a Tim’s off the next exit; Scott figures some coffee could do the both of them good and he’ll be able to explain everything to his mom.

Tessa stirs when he cuts the engine, her head lifting faster than her body uncurls. “Where are we?” 

“We’re in Woodstock,” Scott explains. “Almost home, I promise.”

She blinks and then sighs as she peers out the windshield, a small smile on her face. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a Timmy’s.” 

“What can I get you? You can stay here if you’d like to sleep more,” he says when she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“I think I could do with stretching my legs.” 

The hat she’d been using as a makeshift pillow is pulled over her head and Scott really hopes he can swallow down the laugh he can feel bubbling up inside him. “Real cold in Kharkiv this time of year?” he asks, coughing to hide his laugh.

Tessa pulls the furry ear flaps down which makes the whole hat sit more securely on her head but also makes her eyebrows disappear behind the equally furry rim. “It’s a little excessive for October,” she admits, “but my mom sent it and I like having a piece of home with me at the rink.” She shrugs. “Even if it is a somewhat ridiculous hat.” Tessa doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed by the fur hat, a smile taking over her features instead of a blush. Scott thinks he wouldn’t be able to rock it as well as she is.

“It’s cute.” There is a faint pinking to her cheeks then and Scott coughs once more. “What did you want to drink?”

Tessa heads for the bathroom once they’re inside so Scott orders their coffees and a box of timbits to split before calling his mom. “Were  _ you _ abducted?” she nearly yells, voice so sharp in his ear that Scott has to pull the phone away. “I told you to keep me updated, Scotty!” His brothers must already be at the house because his mom sounds a little further away when she says, “Stop it! If he had been killed, I would’ve blamed the pair of you!”

“Sorry, sorry, things got weird.” He already knows that’s perhaps not the best way to phrase things when his mom is already worried that his mail order bride somehow kidnapped him. “But a good weird! Really, this could not have gone better.”

It’s silent for a beat, then, “Oh my god, Scotty, you’re not going to marry this woman, are you?” 

There’s a definite uproar on the other end of the line and Scott sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, Ma. My mail order bride is much less of a mail order bride than we thought she’d be.” 

Without an ounce of subtlety, the man that had been standing next to Scott jerks his head in his direction before quickly moving closer to the counter. “Don’t say that so loud,” Tessa chastises when she appears on the other side of him. “People will stare.”

He’s murmuring his apology when his mom asks, “What does that mean? Is that her?”

Their order is called and Tessa gathers everything, grinning when she sees the box of timbits. “Yeah, it was. Look, I’ll explain properly when I get home, but don’t worry, everything is going to be fine! There will be  _ no _ marriage anytime soon.” It’s definitely not enough information to satisfy his mom, but it will have to do. He doesn’t want to keep Tessa from her own mom any longer than necessary.

Now that Tessa’s awake, it’s as if Scott can’t stop himself from filling the silence, the radio not enough to put him at ease. “So, before yesterday, how’ve you been?”

A rough laugh comes from her and Tessa shrugs. “You mean how was living in a strange country with no friends and a new partner after having a surgery that forced me to relearn how to walk?” He cringes, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Tessa just sighs as she folds her leg underneath herself. “I was willing to do it for skating, you know?” Scott nods. He thinks he understands wanting to do everything in your power in order to take the ice more than most. “But I am  _ really _ fucking glad to be home.”

He laughs. “Well, glad I could unexpectedly help with that.”

Tessa drains the rest of her coffee. “How have you been?”

“Probably better than you,” he answers somewhat regretfully. “It’s been hard not skating like I want to, but at least I’m home.”

“It’s strange,” Tessa says, her fingers deftly opening the box of timbits between them. “Not seeing you on the circuit.”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “Miss me?”

Tessa rolls her eyes but Scott doesn’t miss the smile she tries to hide by looking out of the window. “I’m surprised you haven’t found another partner yet. You’re…” She lets out a breath. “You’re an exceptional skater, Scott.”

The urge to tease her again is there but Scott doesn’t act on it, instead dips his head from a brief moment, murmurs out a thanks before clearing his throat. “I don’t want to skate with just anyone. I don’t want to have to do this again in a few years.”

Tessa exhales noisily through her nose. “I know what you mean.”

Not for the first time, Scott wonders what it would be like to partner with Tessa. But for the first time it’s not so abstract, not an ‘if we didn’t both have partners’. He knows she has the same kind of drive to match his own. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen for either of them this year.

“So,” Scott drags out. “Make out with anyone at Finlandia?” The fact that she throws a chocolate timbit at him should be considered a crime; they’re the best kind and she so carelessly wasted one! 

“For your information, no.” She sits up a little straighter. “You were the first and last on that front.” He wiggles his eyebrows and she groans. “If you smile any wider, I’m going to throw another timbit at you.”

Scott is glad they’re nearly in London so that Tessa can be reunited with her mom, but he’s also disappointed that their journey is drawing to an end. He’d like to have a little more time with her and to hear that laugh again. Maybe there’s a chance she might want to see him again after all of this is over. 

Maybe. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants some good ol' fashioned bed sharing?
> 
> Thanks to our wonderful friends for their help and excellent editing skills.

Tessa has to admit, Scott did a wonderful job distracting her from the fact that life as she knew it imploded two days ago. For the first time since Sasha had told her he was leaving, Tessa felt something close to relaxed, near hopeful that everything was going to be okay. He was taking her to her mom, and her mom could figure this out.

The excitement in her blood builds steadily as they get closer to London and then as she directs him through the suburbs to her childhood home. It had felt different there after her parents divorced, like her memories were suddenly built with sand rather than red brick, questions hanging over everything. But now she wants nothing more than to be back there with her mom, who, along with her siblings, is the part of those memories that she can rely on. 

It feels like the journey is taking longer than it ever has, slowing down to an almost sedentary pace. All three of her flights could fit into the time it seems to take to wind around her neighbourhood. Her legs are jiggling up and down and she catches Scott doing the same, like it's contagious. He might be nervous about how she’ll explain his part in the story to her mom, she guesses. Leaving it out for now seems okay, her mom will have enough to process with the news about Sasha. 

She's practically jumping out of her skin by the time they reach the driveway, until a jolt comes when her mom’s car isn't parked in its usual spot. She should be home by now; it's a Monday, the day she always comes home straight from work. 

Tessa worries at the zip of her jacket, pulling it up and down and up and down. “Maybe she had to go shopping or something.” Her voice sounds funny to her ears, timid and confused.

“I can wait. There's no rush,” Scott says, sounding completely genuine. 

“Unless she parked in the garage?” It's unlikely, but it's possible her mom might have changed her ways since Tessa has been gone. “I'll go knock on the door.”

She had already explained to Scott on the way, after they passed some houses that had been robbed, that her mom had stopped leaving a spare key out. If her mom is away, she might have to take Scott up on his offer as she doesn't want to sit on the porch alone in the cold. She’s had enough of that to last her a long while.

It takes three minutes of alternating between knocking on the door (so hard that her knuckles start to hurt) and ringing the bell before her eyes start stinging and her throat becomes hot and dry. Her mom can't not be here, she's travelled for so long and made it all this way, her mom has to be here. She can't keep going without a big hug and the scent of Chanel No.5. She's done so much to get here, things she could never have imagined. Her mom _ has _ to be here.

Her throat burns and hot tears stream down her face when suddenly the memory returns to her of the last call she had with her mom. In amongst the questions about training and whether she was eating enough, her mom had told her about a conference she was going to be attending in Vancouver. 

Her mom is on the opposite end of the country.

She’s breathing so quick, so harshly, that she’s shocked she even registers the sound of Scott’s car door. She tries to wipe her face with her sleeves before he reaches her but it's not much use. He walks slowly up to her like he doesn't want to surprise her and clears his throat before speaking. “Do you need help with anything, Tessa?”

She stays rooted on their welcome doormat, keeps staring at the door as if by some miracle her mom will come walking out. “I just…” She swallows hard and focuses so much on the peephole on the door that her vision starts going blurry. “I just remembered my mom is at a conference in Vancouver. And I can't get in.”

He swears under his breath. “I'm so, so sorry, Tessa.” She closes her eyes, swallowing down the whine that threatens to escape from her. He sounds so genuine, so upset for her, and it’s only making it worse. “This has been such an ordeal and now… It fucking sucks.” It does fucking suck. When she was told she needed to get surgery in order to continue skating, she thought nothing would ever be worse than that, that she’d reached the bottom of the barrel of shitty things that could happen to her. When Evan left her to partner with Madi, she thought life sucked. She had understood, sure, with how bad things had looked, but she’d still been angry, still hurt. When her dad decided to divorce her mom, she thought the world was ending. But this? Her whole life since Sasha ran out on her has been, without a doubt, the hardest fucking thing she’s ever been through and she’s just so _ tired_. “Do you… Would you like a hug?”

She's getting ready to thank him but refuse, she's asked enough of him today without him mopping up her emotional mess now, but then her body is turning and she's in his embrace, his strong arms tight around her, providing support while she tries, and fails, to hold herself together. 

“How about you come home to Ilderton with me?” Scott asks, above her gentle crying. “It's not… I'm living with my parents and they have loads of room. And my mom made a big roast to, uh, welcome the girl my brothers brought over, so really, it is a dinner in your honor.” He hugs her a little tighter, his cheek pressing against her own as he runs his hand up and down the length of her spine. “I know it's not home, but it might be the best we can do for tonight.”

She isn't expecting to start giggling, it's so far away from what she's feeling, but she can't help it. She's been invited back to Ilderton like she really is his mail order bride. The more she thinks about it, the more her shoulders bounce from laughter rather than the sobs she’s trying to hold in. The whole situation is so beyond bizarre and laughing is less painful than crying. 

It takes a moment, but Scott joins in too, their laughter mingling and harmonising. 

She sobers up a little after a moment, still wrapped up in Scott’s embrace. “I don't want to impose, though. You've done so much already.” More than she’ll ever really be able to thank him for.

Scott pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes, head already shaking back and forth. “I'd never forgive myself if I just put you up in a hotel or left you with someone else. And my mom would kill me.” This time when he hugs her, he rocks them side to side and she thinks he did the same thing the last time they saw each other. “You’ve done enough fending for yourself these past few days. If you can't go home, you need to be somewhere like mine.” 

Tessa nods against the curve of his neck. She's too tired to argue or try and come up with another solution. She needs to be somewhere warm with people who are kind. “Thank you.” 

“Only the best for my future wife,” Scott is quick to quip, his voice betraying that he’s nervous about how the joke will land. 

She gives him a laugh as they walk back to the car, a wooden one that loosens up into something real. Without him by her side, this day might have seemed impossible. “I think I hit the jackpot with mail order husbands,” she tells him as she climbs back into the car. 

Scott shakes his head as he shuts her door. “I'm not sure that's much of a compliment. What kind of guys are on those sites?”

They spend the journey to Ilderton imagining those men and coming up with increasingly elaborate backstories. The pain doesn't leave but it lifts a little. And that feels like as much as she can ask for right now. 

—

Scott thinks Tessa might be stronger than anyone he knows. 

If he had gone through everything she just had, there is no way that he wouldn’t still be sobbing on his parents’ porch.

It’s why he’s shocked that Tessa doesn’t retreat into herself on the way to Ilderton and actually keeps up with the conversation about the men that order women online. He is glad, though, that it doesn’t seem to send her down a spiral.

He hasn’t even turned off the car yet when his brothers burst out of the house and onto the porch, the pair of them squinting in their direction. “Are those your brothers?” Tessa asks as she slips her ridiculous hat back on. Danny says something and then Charlie shoves him. It gets another laugh out of Tessa. “Reminds me of my brothers.”

His mom comes out the door next, breaking her sons apart on her way down the steps. “As happy as I am to have helped you,” Scott starts once Tessa reaches him at the hood of the car, “_do not _ thank my brothers.” Tessa snorts, their feet crunching the bit of snow that’s stuck around from when it fell a few days prior. 

“Oh my word,” his mom says, blinking rapidly. She’s rushed out without her coat and Scott is already halfway out of his when she continues, “she really _ does _ look like—”

“Ma,” Scott exclaims, “this is Tessa Virtue! You remember her, don’t you?”

Tessa puts her hand out for his mom to shake, her arm dropping a bit when his mom’s whole face screws up in confusion. Where it seemed before like his mom was incapable of not blinking, she hasn’t blinked at all since he introduced Tessa. “Hi, Mrs. Moir,” Tessa murmurs before she clears her throat and repeats herself louder. 

It seems to be enough to jolt his mom out of her reverie because then she’s scooping Tessa into a hug and asking, “What on earth were you doing on one of those sites?!”

Scott groans, hand rubbing harshly at his brow. “You can’t ask people that, Ma.”

His mom pulls back and now she looks horrified. “Oh you’re right.” She bites her bottom lip as she looks at Tessa. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure you had your reasons and that they were very valid an—”

“I’m not a mail order bride!” Tessa shouts at the same time Scott yells, “She’s not a mail order bride!”

Danny and Charlie are on them now too, talking over each other in an effort to figure out what’s happening and Scott knows this is about to get too overwhelming for Tessa. “Can we maybe just get inside?” He steps forward, urging his family back to the porch while giving Tessa the breathing room she probably needs. “It’s cold. We can explain inside.”

Tessa sticks close as they make their way into the living room, stays pressed against his side as Scott shares what he knows. She adds in details here and there of course, clarifying parts in between sips of the tea his mom has brought out. He feels like asking his brothers to leave, but it’s probably good for them to hear all that’s happened from Tessa. He thinks if he were to tell them, they would assume that he’s making the whole thing up. 

His mom’s eyes grow wider and wider as she pops in and out of the kitchen where she’s putting the finishing touches to dinner. Her comments about what a terrible thing Sasha did and how brave Tessa is are interspersed with questions about whether she likes broccoli and would she like gravy only on her meat or also on the vegetables and potatoes. 

He’s starting to wonder just how many questions she can ask about dinner when she asks, “Would you like just mash or roast potatoes too, honey?” Scott never gets to make requests about dinner, he gets told to eat what’s put in front of him. He also never gets two potato options unless it’s Christmas. His mom really was going all out for the stranger he could’ve brought home.

“Just…” Tessa frowns, then shrugs. “Well, I’m not competing anymore, so both, please, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

“It’s no trouble at all! I don’t know what kind of food they had out there but I think we need to feed you up!” His mom puts her tea towel over her shoulder and rests a hand on her hip. Subtly, she looks Tessa over once, the lines around her eyes deepening. “Do you think it’s just the tiredness making you pale, or do you need some more iron in your diet? You have to make sure to get enough Vitamin C to absorb it!”

“Ma!” he warns, reminding her with his eyes not to overwhelm Tessa. She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need to be hounded about eating healthy. Or looked at like she’s being inspected. She should feel comfortable here, not like a commodity. Scott finds himself thanking whatever higher power there is again that it wasn’t some stranger he met.

Though, he supposed he’d wouldn’t care as much if he didn’t know the woman. Not that he really knows Tessa all that well.

His mom softens her tone and sends a sheepish smile to Tessa. “Sorry, sweetie, I just want to make sure you’re okay… or as okay as you can be right now. I’ll plate up and then you can come on in.” 

She disappears back into the kitchen before Tessa can say anything. Scott pats Tessa’s arm in what he hopes is a soothing and encouraging way, ignoring how Danny’s eyes seem to bug out. 

Tessa smiles back at him. “Your mom is just being a mom, it’s nice, I promise.” She shifts a little in her seat. “Would it be okay if I used your computer to email mine after dinner? And my sister too, I know she’ll be worrying.”

Shit, he should have offered that already. “Of course, do you want to do that now? I’m sure dinner can wait another few minutes.” He swears he hears a snort coming from his mom in the kitchen.

“No, thank you, but no.” Tessa takes a deep breath. Her hands have disappeared up the sleeves of her sweater, the fabric pulled down around her fists. “I think I need a little more time to figure out what I’m going to say.” 

He just nods in response, not wanting to say anything that might upset her. Scott doesn't know how he would have found the words to explain his side of this crazy story to his mom if she hadn't walked right in on him and Charlie yesterday (how was that only yesterday?!)

“Dinner is ready,” his mom calls. 

Tessa gets seated close to the stove where it's warm and gets all the nicest cuts of meat and all the best vegetables. He thinks he can see her struggling with the portion size. She will have been on a competition season diet and he doesn't know how strict her coach in Ukraine was on what she ate. He does know that some coaches are much too hard on girls, and he hopes Tessa hasn't had to deal with a lot of that. 

His mom is the one to keep conversations going at the table, his brothers weirdly silent and his dad focusing on making sure Tessa has enough to eat, while he and Tessa herself are too drained to have many ideas for what to talk about. “I remember seeing you at competitions when you were just a tiny thing, Tessa. You had this pretty white dress and your hair was always perfect.” Scott can't help but grimace a little at the mention of a white dress. “You seemed to know exactly what to do, while Scotty here was always forgetting his steps at the beginning.”

“_ Mom!” _He could really do without her sharing embarrassing childhood stories like Tessa truly is his fiancée coming home to meet the family. But he finds he kind of likes it when Tessa mouths the offending nickname to him with the sparkle in her eye that's been missing since they reached London and her mom wasn't home. 

“I learned my partner’s steps as well as my own in case he forgot them,” Tessa shares. She drops her voice, “At least I didn’t have to do that in seniors like another team I know.” Scott can’t hold back his snicker. He’s pretty sure he can figure out who that is and he’s not surprised in the least.

“Oh, Scott needed you,” his mom says. He chokes a little on the roast he’s just taken a bite of and quickly picks up his glass to help wash it down. He's not entirely sure whether she's joking or not. “Did you stop skating for a little bit then? We didn't see you at competitions for quite a while.” Scott is pretty sure his mom already knows the answer to this and is just asking to draw Tessa out of her shell.

Tessa nods, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she finishes chewing. “Yes, I trained at the National Ballet for a while. It was a great experience but… I missed the ice,” she says somewhat wistfully with the shrug of one shoulder. He has always marvelled at her ability to make simple gestures seem impossibly elegant. 

“Ballet’s loss was ice dance’s gain,” Scott says, lifting his glass of water. Tessa blushes a little while Charlie rolls his eyes and Danny sticks his tongue out at him. His mom and dad look proud though, so hopefully not every member of his family thinks he’s a loser. 

His dad moves the conversation on to how the Leafs are faring this year, which Scott thinks is a good choice. Tessa probably wants a break from thinking and talking about ice dance after all the trouble it has led her into these past few days. She seems to relax, her shoulders loosening and her pretty smile appearing more often as she starts to talk about how she used to go to hockey games with her brothers when she was younger. 

Dessert is his mom’s famous death by chocolate cake, and it’s nice to see Tessa’s eyes actually light up when a slice with a dollop of the fancy vanilla ice cream is placed in front of her. She offers to help clean up after but his mom forcibly redirects her back into the living room, putting her hands on her shoulders and walking her over to the comfiest chair. “Are you sure you don’t want another slice, honey? There’s plenty left for tomorrow and probably a few days after that.” 

“No, thank you. You’ve been much too kind. I’m sorry for putting you to all this trouble.” Tessa looks at his mom and then him, her eyes sincere and a little pleading.

Before he can say anything his mom jumps in, “You are no trouble at all! I’m so glad that we could help out.” His mom pushes the hair that’s fallen into Tessa’s face back, fond smile curling her lips. “You’ve had such a terrible time of it and you need some good home-cooked meals and a comfy bed before we can get you back home.” She turns to him, her tone less comforting, now brisk and business-like. “Scott, you go get the laptop so that Tessa can contact her mom and her sister.” 

He does as he’s told, looking out the window of the office down at his brothers who are standing outside their cars, talking animatedly, with even more hand gestures than usual. He wants to know what they’re saying, but also he doesn’t. He’s not ready to hear what they think about it all, or to hear them boasting that they managed to get him the actual Tessa Virtue, not just a girl who looked like her. It’s been so good to see her again, to get to spend this time with her, but he so wishes it had been under different circumstances, ones she’d chosen.

Maybe he should tell her that, he thinks as he goes back downstairs. It might help her see that he really doesn’t mind that she’s staying with them, likes it even. He enters the living room with a bit more energy after deciding on that, only to be greeted by the sight of Tessa bawling in his mom’s arms. She’d been, more than understandably, obviously upset at her mom’s earlier, but this is a whole other league of crying. It’s loud and messy and her whole body seems to be shaking while his mom rubs her back and holds her tight. 

Scott’s wondering whether he should leave when Tessa turns around and sees him standing there. She wipes her red face. “I’m so sorry,” she gets out in between wet gasps. “I’m such a mess.”

He walks towards her, any plans to leave her to some alone time with his mom abandoned for now. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says gently as he kneels down in front of her. “You’re so strong, Tessa. If it had been me I would have been crying like this the entire time.”

His mom smiles at him. “He definitely would have.” 

There’s even a glimmer of a smile in among Tessa’s tears, but it soon disappears. “I don’t know what to tell my mom. She’s probably worrying already, but this will make her worry too.” She bites her lip, the colour changing from pink to white with the pressure. “It’s just… I think it’s all sinking in now that I have to tell her, now that I have to write it down. Like that makes it real?” He nods, his mom doing the same. It makes sense to him that Tessa has been running on autopilot and now that she can finally breathe a little, it’s hitting her all at once. “The past few days have been so stressful, but… I’ve actually been pretty lucky.” She grips her thighs tightly with her hands, the knuckles going white. “Things could have turned out really badly.”

Scott doesn’t want to think about that at all. “And that’s really scary.” Carefully, slowly, he puts his hand on top of hers, thumb stroking her knuckles until he feels her relax. “But they didn’t.” Tessa nods once, wiping her eyes. The crying has subsided now, all that’s left from her breakdown hiccuping breaths. “Do, uh, do you want me to sit with you while you email your family?” He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also has the impression that she doesn’t want to be alone just yet.

“Please,” comes her quick answer and she amends it even faster, like she’s worried that it’s too much to ask in addition to everything, like he didn’t offer. “If you’re not busy.” Her voice is quiet, but a little calmer. 

“Not at all.” This will be a much more useful activity than watching TV or trawling through Ice Partner Search only to find no one suitable again. 

Tessa looks up at his mom. “Could I maybe have some more cake after all?”

Strangely, the request relaxes his mom, he can tell from the way her face smooths out and her shoulders drop. “Of course, you can have all the cake you want,” his mom insists, hugging Tessa close to her. “I’ll go cut you a big slice right now. Some milk will do you good too.” She presses a kiss to the crown of Tessa’s head before heading back to the kitchen.

Scott sits down beside Tessa’s feet, opening his laptop and turning it on. He’s about to pass it up when Tessa slips down beside him. “You should stay in the chair,” he tries but Tessa shakes her head.

“This is good.” He doesn’t comment on the lack of confidence in her voice only because she feels something close to relaxed. Wordlessly, Scott slides the laptop onto her lap and pushes his foot against hers, smiling when she taps against it.

Tessa takes a deep, gulping breath that Scott finds himself mimicking, and then starts typing.

—

She feels sick to her stomach.

Not that Tessa could ever admit that to Alma lest she think that Tessa somehow hated her cooking, but the fact of the matter is Tessa forced herself to eat that much for the first time in a long while and she’s paying for it. Even if she doesn’t have to be watching what she eats for the rest of this competitive year, she should have known better than to jump right into the deep end. Who did she think she was, having two slices of cake after that huge dinner?

It is possible too, that the nausea is from the fact that she’s gone to bed without a response from her mom or Jordan. The laptop sits closed on the desk in the corner of the room. She’s sure they’re both busy and that she’s just extra exhausted, but it stings more than she expected. Perhaps she should set an alarm for an hour or two. It is, after all, only eight. Her mom is liable to email soon. She’ll have only just been getting out of her conference if Tessa is remembering correctly. Jordan’s probably swamped with studying for finals too. She nods to herself in the middle of the Moir guest bedroom (which she suspects must have been one of Scott’s brothers once upon a time, if the posters on the walls are anything to go by). She’ll just rest her eyes for a bit before checking her email.

Tessa wiggles further under the covers, nose wrinkling when she realizes just how wet her hair still is. She doesn’t like to blow dry it if she can help it but it’s not exactly comfortable laying against a wet pillow. At least her pajamas are comfy, some sweats of Scott’s and a CanSkate shirt from a few years back.

The house is really quiet. Quiet enough that she thinks maybe everyone else has gone to bed too, as if they’re just as exhausted. She supposes that she did put them through quite a lot. Flipping the pillow over, Tessa starts to think of all the ways she can repay the Moirs for their generosity. She doesn’t think it would take too much convincing to get her mom to make them a meal that compares to the one Alma made tonight. She’ll have to do something more than that too, what she’s just not sure yet.

She’s always liked silence and being alone, craved it after her stint with the National Ballet where it was always noisy and she could never find time to herself. Only now, after the last few days spent with herself, it’s the last thing Tessa seems to want. It’s making her skin crawl (no doubt adding to how her stomach churns). 

Taking a chance, Tessa slips out from bed. She has to double knot the pants at her waist so they’ll stay somewhere that can be classified as decent and then heads downstairs quietly. The white noise from the TV should help and hopefully she can keep it low enough as not to disturb anyone else.

Someone is still awake, the soft, almost muted shift of feet on the wood Tessa’s only clue that not everyone in the Moir household goes to bed early. If it’s Alma, Tessa will have to swallow down the urge to apologize for breaking apart in her arms earlier. She knows that the woman only felt for her, had said she was happy that Tessa was comfortable enough to finally release everything that had been bubbling inside of her, but Tessa is still mortified to have gotten snot and tears over this woman she had just met properly for the first time since she was little. 

It turns out to only be Scott puttering around the living room, folding up the throw blankets and fluffing up the pillows. He’s changed into pajamas himself, mismatched comfy clothes that look like the ones he’s lent her. She thinks he looks tired, maybe not as bad as she does, but tired all the same. It occurs to her then that this day has probably been just as overwhelming for Scott as it was for her, even if she hadn’t been a stranger who was looking to be married.

He was sensitive. That’s what she remembers the girls saying at competitions. She never believed them until she saw it firsthand, when that sensitivity and care and passion was directed towards her. There’s no doubt that he’s likely soaked up some of her anxieties and fears and sadness and she wilts at the foot of the stairs, upset with herself once again that someone else has been affected by this mess.

“Hey.” Scott’s looking at her with a small smile when she lifts her head. “Did your mom or sister get back to you?”

Tessa shakes her head, making her way into the living room he’s just cleaned up. “It’s um…” she laughs, hollowly to herself and closes her eyes. “It’s too quiet.” She shrugs. “Or maybe I’m just too tired to sleep? I don’t know.”

“It’s weird,” he says. He nods as if he knows what she’s trying to articulate. “You’ve been going nearly nonstop and now you’re at rest but you haven’t quite caught up to that fact yet. Looking back on it now, I’m surprised you actually managed to fall asleep in the car.”

“Yeah.” She deflates even as a smile inches on to her face. “That’s exactly it.”

He heads to the entertainment center and she watches curiously as he crouches in front of it. “It's kind of like after competitions? Maybe you don’t get like that but sometimes, after I’d finish, I felt like going for a run even though my lungs and muscles were screaming at me to just sit down.” He holds a deck of cards about his head. “You know how to play rummy?”

Sitting down on either side of the coffee table, Scott deals their cards. “Before my surgery, well, before the pain, I used to be like that.” He raises a brow, the card he’s passing out accidentally flipping over. Rather than let her take it, he puts it at the bottom of the deck, sending her a new one. “After a competition I would go and run or dance. Too much adrenaline. But now I have to be careful.” She picks up her hand with a scoff. “If I get on the ice again.”

“You will,” he answers, quick and sure.

Tessa picks up her cards, deciding to focus on sorting them rather than linger on how confident Scott sounds regarding her future. They go through two rounds, both going longer than she expected. She’s up three points, not a good lead by any means. Normally she’d play to win, too competitive not to, but Scott yawns and though he tries to hide it, it comes out louder and longer than she guesses he thought it would. “I should let you get some sleep.” He starts to protest so Tessa drops her hand on the table face up. “You’re clearly tired. And you’ve done enough for me today.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

She’ll just stare at the ceiling until sleep comes. Won’t be the first time she’s done it.

The cards are stacked and returned to their box, Tessa taking it upon herself to stow them away while Scott turns off the lights one by one. “Do your parents normally sleep this early?”

“Just about. They both like to be up before the sun.” 

Scott follows her up the stairs but stops short at the top, his room obviously the first one past the stairs. Tessa can’t stop herself from lingering as he opens the door, taking a small step back so that she can get a better look inside. He looks at her, amused, and Tessa simply rolls her eyes before deciding to be bold and look inside properly. 

“I’d wondered what your bedroom looked like.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

Scott’s choked laugh rings in the hall which should set Tessa on edge, make her worry about waking his parents even though their room is downstairs, but it doesn’t because Scott’s eyes look bright as his cheeks redden. “Really?”

The filter that usually exists between her brain and her mouth has definitely been turned off by her exhaustion. “Didn't you think about mine?” The way he ducks his chin to his chest and turns into his room speaks volumes.

There’s about as much Maple Leafs merch as she expected on the walls, posters and jerseys and she thinks even a few ticket stubs. A surprising amount of books next to the bed which, she can’t tell if this is endearing or not, sports a Maple Leafs pillowcase to go with the deep navy bedspread. Pictures of family and a desk with a computer fill in the rest of the room, save for the corner where workout items are tucked.

She gives a little nod when she looks back at him, finished with her appraisal. Even though it's nothing like a bedroom she'd choose for herself it feels welcoming and warm, just like Scott and his family. She doesn't want to go back to the lonely guest room.

So then, before she loses her courage, she asks, “Can I lay with you?” Scott swallows audibly, sinking into the edge of his bed. “I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Yeah.” It barely comes out louder than a whisper so Scott clears his throat and says, “Of course you can. Do you have a side preference?”

“Not really.”

He stands to pull the covers down and Tessa shuts the door behind her. Scott takes the side up against the wall. A gentle sigh of relief escapes her. 

She waits for him to settle then climbs in, switching off the lamp before rolling to face him. He stares up at the ceiling and she stares at him unabashedly. Her hands curl into fists under the comforter, not wanting to reach out and trace the slope of his nose or the sharp curve of his jaw, trail down his neck. She rolls onto her back too. “Thank you.”

His foot nudges her own. “Goodnight, Tess.”

Her last thought before sleep finally claims her is that she likes that he calls her Tess. 

—

Scott wakes up to Tessa’s hair in his mouth and her head and arm on his chest, their legs tangled together with his bedsheets. Maybe it’s the tickly feel of her hair that wakes him up, or the familiar scent of his cucumber and aloe vera shampoo that somehow doesn’t smell exactly the same on Tessa’s silky locks. He feels comfortable like this for about two seconds before worry sets in. 

Did Tessa move closer to him during the night or could he have pulled her over towards him? Is she going to totally freak out once she wakes up? What if she completely forgets where she is when she first wakes up (which would be understandable, maybe even expected, after all the stress and travelling) and wonders who he is and why he’s in bed with her?

Even if she doesn’t have trouble recollecting where she is, in the cold light of day she might regret asking him if she could spend the night in his room. Scott knows that sometimes after you’ve been really vulnerable and open with someone you need to retreat, as if to heal a wound you’ve poked. It had seemed like the tiredness was getting to her last night, the exhaustion and stress leaving her a little loopy and ready to blurt stuff out. But it had felt like refusing her request would be a rejection, and, if he’s really honest, he hadn’t wanted to be alone either. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to be away from her, worried that she might disappear as suddenly as she had reappeared, back into some Ukrainian ether.

Just as he’s debating whether it’s better to keep lying like this and have Tessa wake in his arms, or to disentangle himself and risk interrupting her desperately needed sleep, she begins to stir. As he feels her body tense they part, shifting away from each other to the sides of his bed. 

“I'm sorry,” they say at the same time, both their voices husky and rough from sleep. He's never heard Tessa sound like that before and he thinks it will linger for a while. 

“I didn't know if I should wake you or…” he trails off just as Tessa starts speaking again.

“I'm sorry I was… lying on you.” She's fiddling with the sleeve of his old shirt, her eyes not meeting his. 

“I'm sorry if I moved closer to you or…” He wouldn't have pulled her more on less on top of him, would he? “I'm so sorry to make you uncomfortable.” Fuck, she was worried about some sleazy guy expecting all sorts of things from her and now he might as well be some creep like that. 

“No, it was me.” She brings her knees up under her chin. “I invaded your home,” her eyes widen, “and then your _ bed _,” she gestures towards him, “and then your personal space!”

“You didn't,” he says, as quick as he can. “It wasn't like that at all. I invited you here, I'm so glad you stayed and… Tessa, I didn't want to be alone last night either.” She tucks her hair behind her ears nervously but she doesn't seem as tense. She's looking at him again now too, and he's sure there's now relief in his eyes to match her own. “And as for the personal space thing…” His fingers go to his own hair, teasing the ends where it's getting long. “I know I slept well. Did… did you?” There's no mistaking the hopeful lilt in his voice.

Tessa gazes at him properly now, a little surprised. “I did,” she says softly. “Better than for ages.”

His chest puffs out a little, which is stupid really because it might not have had anything to do with him. He straightens his pillowcase. “Then it's okay then, I guess. If you feel okay with it?” He shouldn't put words in her mouth. 

“I do if you do.” Her eyes flit from him down to the space between them. A space he has a sudden urge to cross. But he won't, that's a choice for Tessa to make. 

He lays his hand out on the white sheet, something like a peace offering for a fight they haven't had. “I do.” 

Tessa places her hand in his and squeezes, just for a second. Then she withdraws, saying, “I should really brush my teeth.” He looks away when she climbs out of bed and the trousers he gave her start falling low on her hips, but not before he catches a glance of smooth porcelain skin and the wink of a piercing. She pauses before she leaves, turning to him with a worried expression back in her face. “Will your parents be around?”

He checks the clock by his bed, startling when he sees that it's half eight. “No, they should have left for work by now.” 

A small smile returns to her face. “Good. I wouldn't want to bump into them and for them to… uh…”

“Get the wrong impression?” he suggests, his voice straining just a tad. 

Tessa nods, her cheeks reddening. She points to the door. “I'll go get ready now. Bye Scott. Thanks for…” She scrapes her hair back as if to put it up in a ponytail and then takes a breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “Thank you for everything.” 

He murmurs something about how she doesn’t have to thank him, but she’s already out the door and probably can’t hear. Scott lies back down for a minute, rubbing his eyes and reflecting on his start to the day. It definitely could have gone worse, but he also thinks it could probably have gone better. At least Tessa doesn’t think he’s some creepy dude taking advantage of her. There’s a part of him that quite likes the idea that they’d moved closer to each other in the night, but most of him realises that’s probably an avenue of thought he shouldn’t be indulging in. Tessa needs a friend right now, not someone dwelling on how nice it had felt to wake up with her right beside him.

After a quick shower he goes downstairs, wondering what kind of breakfast he should whip up. Should he go ahead with pancakes or wait and ask Tessa? He’s surveying the contents of the fridge when the phone starts ringing.

He figures it’s his grandpa or a call centre because they’re about the only people who use the landline number anymore, but he still gives the greeting his mom had drilled into him back when he was little. “Hello, this is the Moirs’, Scott speaking.” 

“Scott.” The voice on the other end sounds like a woman around his mom’s age. “Scott,” she repeats. “You’re the one who… I’m Kate Virtue, I’m…”

Before she can even finish he’s calling Tessa downstairs, sounding a bit like a kid on Christmas morning. “Tessa, your mom is on the phone!” For a second he wonders how Mrs. Virtue managed to get their number, imagining her calling around every skating mom she knows in Ontario, before remembering that Tessa had asked him for it when she was emailing her last night. He hears a clatter and then some hurried footsteps overhead. “She’s on her way now, Mrs. Virtue.” He doesn’t try and make any more conversation because he knows that Tessa’s mom must be on tenterhooks waiting to talk to her. Even in the little she had said there was a frantic undertone.

He sees Tessa’s feet before the rest of her, taking the stairs two at a time. She halts on the last one, some anxiety shining along with the excitement in her green eyes, before stepping down and lifting the phone out of his hand. “Mommy,” she breathes out, some tears starting to fall as he hears her mom say her name down the line. “It’s so good to finally hear your voice.” Her own voice cracks more with each word and after quickly squeezing her arm he leaves them to talk in private. 

Back in the kitchen he decides to make up some fruit salad to start with, that way he’ll have something ready for when Tessa comes off the phone and then she can decide if she wants anything more after. He’s just finished cutting up the kiwi when he hears a knock at the door. 

Scott was expecting a salesperson, but he has to do a double take once he sees who’s on the porch. It’s obviously not Tessa, but it has to be her sister. She’s taller, and she’s frowning more than he’s seen Tessa do, her hands on her hips and something close to a scowl on her face. 

“Are you the guy who’s going to marry my sister or one of his idiot brothers?”

“We’re not getting married,” Scott splutters. “I didn’t want to be on that website! It was all my idiot brothers.” 

Jordan nods once, her forehead smoothing out just a little. “We’ll see about that. Where’s Tessa?”

He flings the door fully open and ushers her in. “She’s just on the phone with your mom.” He doesn’t remember Tessa putting their address in the email. “How did you find the house?”

Jordan slips off her shoes, so she must not actually be planning to just grab Tessa and go. “I googled you and then found the address of the skate shop. Your cousin, Cara is it?” Scott nods. “Nice girl, very efficient. She told me where to go and your uncle Paul drew a map.” Jordan shifts her weight from foot to foot. “I left out the whole mail order bride thing, I just said you were putting my sister up after her ice dance partnership ended and she needed to get home fast.”

“Thanks,” Scott says, truly grateful. He’d never hear the end of it at work if Cara and Paul knew, though it’s probably only a matter of time before Charlie or Danny spill the beans. He leads Jordan into the hall where Tessa is telling her mom about that intense Marina lady and her little dog. 

“Mom!” Tessa exclaims, looking at the receiver and then at them. “Jordan is here!” She beckons her over with a huge wave of her arms and Jordan runs to her, hugging her tight and lifting her up off her feet. 

Jordan takes the phone. “She’s all in one piece, Mom. Tired and a little skinny looking, but all in one piece. And Scott doesn’t _ seem _ like a murderer.” He should add that glowing recommendation to his Ice Partner Search bio. “I know, I know, he always seemed like a nice boy.” Jordan rolls her eyes and elbows Tessa in the ribs. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be back in time. I studied last night, it will be fine. Say goodbye to Tess, don’t you have a flight to be getting ready for anyway?” 

He hovers around while Tessa says goodbye to her mom, he wants to tell her about the food in the kitchen in case she forgets to eat with all the excitement. Once the phone is hung up, Tessa gives her sister a proper hug; he looks away when he can see both their shoulders start to shake. 

“Don’t you have a final?” Tessa asks, still not letting go.

“It’s later on today. And I think making sure you’re okay is a lot more important.” Jordan’s voice is muffled but her words remain firm. “I’m sorry Sasha turned out to be so shitty, and you had to leave without your stuff, and you had to come over pretending to be a _ mail order bride _.” Her volume and pitch get higher on each successive word of the phrase, until Scott is nearly grimacing. 

“I got here.” Tessa sounds like she’s trying to calm her sister down, but then she starts to laugh. “It’s been a mess, but I got here.” Jordan hugs her bone-crushingly tight before taking a step back.

Scott clears his throat. “There’s fruit in the kitchen for you, Tessa. I can make you both some pancakes or eggs or something and you could catch up in the living room.” He won’t intrude on their reunion any longer.

Tessa gives him a gorgeous smile, so much more relaxed than she had been this morning. She opens her mouth to answer but before she can get anything out Jordan says, “He can cook?! Maybe you should marry him.” 

Tessa shakes her head, blushing slightly. “As you can see, Scott, you’re not the only one with annoying siblings.” 

“At least I'm not trying to marry you off,” Jordan protests, amending that statement after both he and Tessa raise their eyebrows at her. “Not to someone you don’t know at least. You and Scott must have bonded with all this mail order bride business.” Jordan waves her hand around like she’s going to catch the idea in the air.

Scott thinks they have bonded, or added to the link that was already there perhaps. But maybe that will only last until Tessa goes back home, a weird intense blip in an acquaintanceship that veered towards friendship on a few occasions. His stomach churns a little at that, like it’s rebelling at the idea of only seeing Tessa at random competitions. Not that he’ll even be going to any of those anytime soon. He wants to spend more time with her, to get to hear her laugh when she’s relaxed and not stressed and exhausted. But maybe Tessa will want to forget all about this. He wouldn’t blame her. It’s not like it’s a shining moment in his life so far either. But yet he can’t imagine wanting to completely cast it aside, like it didn’t matter. Because even though it’s only been one day it feels like it does, like it’s important somehow. Whether it is or not is a question for the future, he guesses. 

He plasters on a smile and invites them into the kitchen again. It’s all he can do for now. 

—

It is amazing what a shirt and some jeans can do for a mood.

Jordan had the foresight to bring a set of clothes for Tessa which means for the first time in days she’s not only wearing clean clothes, but clothes that actually fit her. Not that she’d been uncomfortable in what Scott had given her, those had been cozy and comforting when she needed it. Whatever the reason, Tessa feels grounded and relaxed in a way she hasn’t in a long, long time. She brings the sleeves of the shirt over her hands, fisting the fabric as she steps back into the house.

“Your sister back on the road?”

Tessa finds Scott on the couch, a crossword book opened in one hand, a pencil in the other. “Yeah. Thank you,” she starts, making her way towards him, “for sending her with some food.”

He ducks his head, she’s sure in an effort to hide his smile, but she catches it all the same. There’s no stopping the smile that pops onto her face in response. “Somebody once told me food is important to brain function I think.” He shrugs. “Seems like something you should have before a test.”

She pokes at his foot with her toe before she settles down on the couch. “My mom will be very happy to know you’ve taken care of both her daughters today.”

“I don’t need brownie points for being a decent human being,” Scott shrugs. 

“Fair, but you’ll get them all the same from a worried mother.” He starts to fill in 6 down but erases the faint lead lines after the fourth letter. “That was right. It’s A T though, not E T.”

He writes it back in again, fills in all the boxes before holding the book up in front of his face, eyes squinting at the word. “Doesn’t look right but I trust you.” She expects him to go back to work, already starts looking around for things to keep her busy until her mom arrives in town, only for Scott to toss everything onto the coffee table. “How do you feel about going to the shop with me?”

“Oh, am I keeping you from work?” She should’ve asked that so much sooner! She had just been so overwhelmed with hearing her mom and hugging Jordan that she forgot that Scott has better things to do than look out for her. “I can stay here so I’m not in the way. Unless of course you don’t think your parents would be okay with that.”

Scott shakes his head. “No, no work. I just…” he scratches at the back of his neck. “You can totally say no, but I thought it might be nice to get you some new boots?”

Tessa sucks in a breath. “I can’t let you do that, Scott.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re great, Tess, but I definitely can’t float you a new pair of boots and blades. You can pay us back for them.” She is absolutely positive that she turns bright red. _ Of course _ Scott wouldn’t just buy her new skates. What a ridiculous assumption for her to make. “I just know how much of a bitch it is to break in new skates. Sooner the better, right?”

Tessa groans. “Damn it. I didn’t even think of that.” Her head falls onto the back of the couch. She thinks she already feels the phantom ache in her feet.

“You game?”

She certainly doesn’t have anything better to do.

The shop is gorgeous, bright and welcoming and warm. She loves the high ceiling and the industrial look of the shelves, the original hardware on the windows and the beautiful wrought iron on the front doors. It is, without a doubt, the prettiest skate shop she’s ever been into and she tells Scott exactly that. 

She doesn’t know the man behind the counter but she’d hedge a guess that it’s Scott’s uncle. “My girls are to thank for that.” The man blinks behind his glasses. “You certainly look a lot like your sister.”

Tessa smiles. “Thank you for sending her in the right direction.”

Scott throws his coat on the counter, grinning at his uncle as he continues towards the back of the store. “Uncle Paul is the best skate sharpener in the biz,” he yells from the room he disappeared into. 

“He talks me up so I give him better hours.”

“Tess, what’s your size?” Scott shouts.

Before she can answer, Paul is shaking his head, marching in the direction of the back room. “Measure her feet! You don’t just take her word for it!”

Scott meets him in the doorway, boxes tucked under each arm even though she still hasn’t given him her size. “She’s a professional skater, I think she knows what she needs. Besides, her feet haven’t grown in years, I’m sure.”

“Customer service,” Paul reminds him.

With a sigh, Scott sets the skates down on the wooden bench. “Where’s Cara anyway?” Paul just seems to shake his head and throw his hands up as he grabs a pair of skates by their laces and sets them down next to the blade sharpener. “Mark must be in town,” Scott whispers when she sits next to the boxes. “Senior year, Mark rear ended Pauly’s car when he was dropping Cara back off at home and it’s been bad blood ever since.”

The machine where Paul stands whirs to life and Tessa eyes the older man quickly as she toes off her shoes. “All over a fender bender?” Scott sets down the measuring stick between her feet and sends her a look that she knows means the story is long and involved so she just shakes her head and stands.

Scott makes quick work of getting her measurements and it’s unsurprising when he comes up with her exact size. “Knew it,” he murmurs under his breath. “Well, we have got Jackson Elite and Supreme in your size that will hold up to all the sort of things we get in to.” When she tells him that she’ll stick with what she knows, the Elite, he grins and opens up the top box. “Do you want some thinnies?”

“Will you be horrified if I just stuck my bare foot in there?” 

“Nah, I know you’re not disgusting.” A pause as he unlaced the skate to open it up wide. “Well, not now anyway. When I picked you up though…”

He sticks his tongue out and she has half a mind to pinch it in retaliation but instead just swats his shoulder. “I wasn’t that bad!” She knows for a fact that she wasn’t. She had made sure to freshen up before she had walked into arrivals.

“You weren’t.” Scott takes off her socks with no hesitation and, without ceremony, Tessa shoves her foot into the boot. She hits the end of her blade on the soft floor to get her heel to the back of the boot and is about to start doing up her laces but Scott beats her to it. “Customer service, Tess. I gotta make sure you get ‘em tied properly.” She rolls her eyes even as she leans back.

He sets out tightening her laces with a precision that comes only from someone who has been doing up skates their entire life. He pulls hard at the loops on either side, the leather coming together with each jerk of his hands. His hands are sure and steady, forearms flexing nicely at every turn, the veins in his hands pronounced as he wraps her laces around them. She swallows hard, deciding that it’s probably best to look elsewhere. 

That line of thought is _ not _ one she should follow, not right now.

It’s not until he ties the knot on her second skate that either of them speak again. “Hey, after this, do you want to take them out on some ice?”

He helps her to her feet even though she doesn’t need it. She wiggles her toes, takes a few steps around to make sure her feet don’t move. “Is it an open skate?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “I’ve got keys to the rink. We should still have an hour or so before anyone else comes in after these have been in the oven.” He looks at her feet as she walks back to sit. “Good?”

“Yeah, good. They’ll be a pain after we skate though.”

He grins and unlaces the boot that she’s not working on.

  
  


Tessa’s not sure she’s ever had private ice time like this. To have only one other person in the building, one other person on the ice. It feels special, almost magical, makes her feel maybe a little more bold than she regularly would be because, for once, there are no eyes judging her or looking out for a weakness. As she makes another loop around the rink, she feels limitless and weightless and something, she thinks, close to happy. Even if her feet are aching some with these new boots. 

Maybe that’s why she catches up with Scott and puts her hand in his. Maybe that’s why she says, “Run drills with me?”

Scott grins and readjusts his hold on her hand. “Crossovers?”

They go forwards and then backwards and then move on the other simple sequences that have accompanied Tessa as she’s journeyed with different partners through different rinks, different countries. It shouldn’t be relaxing but it is and Tessa thinks it’s more to do with getting back into the routine of doing something she’s done nearly all her life than with the hand she’s holding. It has to be, anyway, because, surely, Scott wouldn’t want to partner with her. Not after all this.

“What’s your favorite pattern?” Scott asks as they stop to grab some water. 

She wiggles her feet in her new boots. “Yankee Polka,” she answers, stone faced, only cracking when Scott tries to hide his shock and confusion by taking another drag from his water bottle. “Probably the Golden Waltz, maybe the Tango Romantica.” She’s never given it much thought before, but she’s still a little sad she never got to skate the Tango Romantica competitively. Never got the chance to skate it on Olympic ice. 

Scott nods and skates over to the sound system, queues up an instrumental piece. “I think the Golden Waltz might be a little tricky off the cuff, but something a bit easier? Starlight?” He brushes back imaginary coattails, fixes the knot of an invisible tie then holds his hand out with a tiny bow when he reaches her.

It is frustratingly _ easy_, going around the ice, waltzing with him. His posture is flawless and his edges so deep she’s jealous at how easy it seems to come to him. This is a pattern she’d learned as a novice, has skated at so many competitions at both that level and as a junior. Scott had been at those competitions too, and she’d watched him back then, somewhat in awe as she is now. She had imagined what this would be like back then, getting to be the one in his arms for the closed hold section that starts the dance, moving out of the chassé sequences to the six beat change of edge onto the swing roll into the three turns. She has to stop herself from laughing when Scott remembers to lift his free leg on the fourth beat of the six they hold before switching to open hold. Evan had always needed to be prompted on that each time they’d revisited this pattern.

The thoughts of what had been or what could have been leave her as she focuses on the changes of hold, focuses on the now of being here with Scott in this rink in Ilderton. A rush of triumph flows through her as she lifts her free leg in time with the music on the final step before they return to closed hold and begin again. She thinks she’s getting more of an influx of endorphins from skating this pattern than she had from her medal winning skates with Sasha at Finlandia. It could merely be the lack of pressure that’s making this more fun than she’s had on the ice in what feels like years, but some of it has to be Scott - how he interprets the music, the way he seems to intuit her movements with ease, the sheer energy with which he skates. Everything feels bigger and better than it has any right to for their first time skating together. 

Tessa pulls him into her arms when the music ends, a thank you maybe, or because she’s excited and overwhelmed and not ready to let go. He hugs her back, rubbing his hand up and down her back as her breathing regulates, his too, until they sort of match. He spins her under his arm, grinning, and then asks, “Silver Samba?” rolling his hips in an exaggerated figure of eight. 

She covers her mouth to hide just how hard she’s laughing, but it’s not much use. She manages to get out a “yes” somehow and he skates over to the boards so that he can put on the new track. While he’s selecting the correct one she plays around with some twizzles, smiling back at Scott when he looks over his shoulder to see what she’s doing. “You know, those hip movements beat yours back in the day,” he calls. 

“Whatever it was that led to you winning, it wasn’t those hip movements,” she answers back straight away. He puts his hand over his heart like she’s wounded him and all she does is smirk, shaking her head at his efforts to get an apology from her. 

Once he returns to her they start to dance and she has to admit that when he’s actually skating his hip movements aren’t bad at all. They move from samba to foxtrot to cha cha back to the other waltzes they’d learned and all the while Tessa’s mind is spinning. How can this be so easy? It hadn’t felt like this when she’d paired up with Sasha and they’d practised patterns. It hadn’t felt anything like this. There are obviously stumbles and little errors, but these just seem to add to the enjoyment of things, giving the two of them an opportunity to work out the mistake and get it right. Scott’s still easygoing, but she can see moments of the intensity she’d noticed back on practice rinks and in competition peek through. He’s so fucking good and it makes her skate better, makes her want to show him why she was the one Sasha’s parents had chosen, had sought out even though there were so many girls who’d been dying to skate with him. 

It’s different, skating with Scott. Different than with any of her previous partners, or guys she’d had tryouts with. And perhaps nothing underlines that more than the way her heart drops when the hockey team start to arrive and they have to leave the ice. She could have skated with him all night, even as her feet have begun to protest more and more. 

They’re both quiet as they change out of their skates and make their way into the rink lobby, quieter than they’ve been around each other since the drive to her mom’s house. He holds the door open for her and as they go out into the dark he says, “We need to do that again.” 

It’s a simple phrase, but she can hear the emphasis, the near desperation, on the ‘need’. 

“We do,” she replies, just as simple, just as emphatic. 

They walk back to his house, leaving the car at the rink because it’s such a short distance it would be silly to use it, and maybe because of an unspoken agreement that they both need some air. “Your mom should be here soon,” Scott says, nodding towards the friendly two-storey as soon as it comes into sight. 

“Yeah.” She hugs her arms around herself, tasting excitement and relief, but there’s also a surprising pull of disappointment. She doesn’t want to say goodbye to Scott again as soon as he’s come back into her life. He’s been amazing, is amazing maybe, and she doesn’t want this to be some weirdly intense interlude that they look back on and wonder what the hell was going on. She doesn’t want to lose that feeling she had on the ice, like she never wanted to stop. As much as she wants to forget the Sasha debacle, and the mail order bride nonsense, and the citizenship mess, she doesn’t want whatever this is with Scott to end. Ideas buzz around in her head but it feels too soon to say anything, and like those ideas might be asking too much.

Scott has done so much for her these past 36 (_how _ is it only 36?) hours. Surely she can’t ask him, that once-in-a-generation talent everyone had whispered about in locker rooms and in the stands, to skate with her? 

—

As soon as they get in the door his mom is calling them to the table for dinner. It's maybe a good thing that they don't have any time alone beforehand because if they had Scott is sure he would blurt out all the things he's dying to say, to ask. Part of him still feels like he's back in the rink, the rink he grew up in that had suddenly seemed an entirely different place. Scott used to say it was magic when he was little, but it had never felt more magical than today. 

His mom has made cottage pie from the roast leftovers and it's delicious as usual but he can't quite give it, or the conversation at the table, his full attention, his mind still boggling at how skating with Tessa had felt like floating.

She seems a bit distracted too, but he figures that could be down to waiting for her mom to arrive. After dinner, and his mom refusing to let her clean up, she goes upstairs to organise the few things she has. His mom gets him to do the washing up instead and he's actually thankful because it means he's not sitting around and thinking. 

His efforts to dissuade Tessa from helping him to dry the dishes fail though when she joins him in the kitchen. She actually hits him with a tea towel and it’s surprisingly sore. “It’s the least I can do,” she insists, and, because he doesn’t feel like getting slapped again, he lets her. Next, she clears her throat, “My mom will be here soon, she just called your house phone.”

“That’s great, Tess.” He’s glad she’s finally going to get the moment she’d needed and wanted when he drove her home to London from the airport. 

“Scott, I don’t know how to thank you for all that you and your family have done for me…” She shakes her head, like she’s trying to come up with words and failing.

“You don’t have to.” He doesn’t know how to react to how grateful she is.

Tessa puts the tea towel down and lays her hand on his arm. “I do.” 

A knock comes at the door and Tessa tightens her grip on him, squeezing so hard he can feel the half-moons of her fingernails through his henley. “Do you want to get it?” he asks, keeping his voice soft. 

She shakes her head immediately like it’s a reflex. “No. I don’t… I don’t want to open it and it not be her.” 

Scott’s about to say that he gets it, but he doesn’t, not really, so he keeps quiet and just gives her a hug, feels her heart hammering against his like it had on the ice earlier.

His mom must open the door because she calls Tessa’s name, her excitement like a bell. Tessa steps back from him, squeezing his arms again, her face a little anxious but mostly joyous, before she walks into the hall. He shuffles back to see her running towards a woman with a blonde bob who has to be her mom, watching them throw their arms around each other before going back to drying the dishes.

He stays at his task until he hears Tessa introducing her mom to his parents in the living room. When he joins them Kate is holding one of his mom’s hands and one of his dad’s, Tessa standing right beside her. It’s obvious that they’ve both been crying, but also that’s it’s been tears of the happy kind, a kind of electric energy radiating from both of them. 

“Oh, and this is Scott, Mom!” Tessa announces when she sees him, saying his name like he’s someone special. 

Kate drops his parents’ hands and walks over to him with her arms open wide. She hugs him with a fierceness he hasn’t felt maybe since he came home to tell his mom that Emily’s citizenship application had fallen through, and their partnership with it. “Scott. I’m so thankful it was you at the airport. You’ve been so wonderful.”

He can tell she’s about to start crying again and he can’t have that because moms crying is liable to make him cry too. “I, uh… I’m sure a lot of people would have done the same.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” she says, so firmly that it makes him think she might be right. 

“Would you two like to stay for some coffee and chocolate cake or do you want to head home?” his mom asks. 

Kate turns to Tessa, who looks at him and then says, “We’ll stay a little while if that's okay. I don't want to take up…”

His mom cuts her off, tutting loudly. “No more of that, honey! We’ll have you to stay anytime you like.” 

The conversation over cake mainly consists of their moms reminiscing about old competitions and him and Tessa sending each other glances that range from amused to embarrassed to horrified. Maybe it's a hangover from earlier, but he finds himself imagining what it would have been like if they'd been competing together back then, and what things might be like now if that had been the case. He can't know of course, can only know it would be different.

There's another round of hugs before they go, Kate nearly squeezing him to death while his mom rocks Tessa back and forth like she's jetting off to Australia and not thirty minutes down the road. 

He gets it when it's his turn to say goodbye to her though. Their parents have all headed out into the hall and it's just the two of them in the living room like it had been last night when they played cards. His mouth goes dry and he has no idea what to say. He's so happy she gets to go home, but he doesn't want her to leave. He doesn't want whatever might be beginning between them to end. 

“I'm not saying goodbye,” Tessa says, her eyes glittery. “I'm going to see you soon, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, his own eyes welling up too. “I'll see you soon, then.”

Scott hugs her as tight as he can, lifting her up just a little, clamping down on his urge to make a joke about this being an easy first lift and whether soon can be tomorrow at the rink. He keeps all those questions locked up inside as he walks her to the car and waves as they drive away. 

He’s restless from almost the moment they leave. It’s obvious that he’s driving his mom and dad crazy from the way they roll their eyes or shake their heads at him respectively whenever he wanders into the living room and then wanders back out. He tries to carry on with his crossword, but that just makes him think of Tessa. He goes to his room to do some tidying, but it’s even worse in there where the memories of how it had felt to wake up with her in his arms come flooding back. And with them then follow the memories of what it was like to hold her on the ice.

Scott had always known Tessa was special. She was an amazing skater and the best dancer he’d ever seen. But he didn’t know just what it would be like to skate with her. There had been daydreams in the past, sure, but they hadn’t prepared him for the real thing. None of his tryouts had ever gone like that. They had just clicked from the beginning and the patterns had felt so easy with her, like they were truly _ skating _ together straight away, not just figuring each other out. The way she interpreted the music made all the tired old tracks the rink had for compulsories that he’d heard a million times before seem inspiring and brand new. 

He needs to skate with her. No one else could come close; any other tryout would feel dull and muted after what it had been like to just mess around with Tessa today. Except it hadn’t been messing around, not really. Even though things stayed fun and light, he could tell she was taking it as seriously as he was. Fuck, he wants her to be his partner so bad. But when would be the right time to ask? Or should he even ask? What if it would feel like he’s pressuring her, using the time they’ve spent together? He should probably give her some space, some time to just breathe after all that’s happened, but what if someone else gets in there first? He recognises the idea as ridiculous, but he knows that it would be hard to see her skate with someone else now, even after just over an hour on the ice with her. 

His mom comes into the hall where he’s been pacing and hands him the keys from the dresser. “Go, Scott.” 

Does she really think he should go talk to Tessa tonight? “Are you sure?”

“Just go,” she says as she gently pushes him towards the door. 

He takes off. The adrenaline has him driving faster than he maybe should, nothing reckless but definitely not at a speed that would earn him brownie points from traffic police. He has to see Tessa tonight, to ask her if she’ll be his partner.

It’s when he’s knocking at her mom’s door that he realises this is a terrible idea. It’s late, and Tessa has been through so much the past few days, her mom too. They need some time together, and Tessa needs some time to relax. His mom probably didn't want him to come here, she just wanted him out of her house. He’s thinking of skulking away back to his car when Kate opens the door. 

She smiles at him, but he can tell she’s a little confused especially when she looks down at his empty hands. “Hi Scott, how are you? Did Tessa leave something at your house?” 

“Uh, no. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have come round tonight.” He backs away from the door a little. “It was rude of me. I’ll leave you two to…”

“Don’t be silly, Scott. You’re always going to be welcome here anytime,” Kate assures him. She smiles at him the way his mom would when she was going to tell him that it was bedtime in ten minutes, like she wants him to understand why what she’s going to say is is a good idea. “I just want to check with Tessa to see she’s not too tired, I’m not sure if she was thinking about going to sleep right away or not.” 

“Of course. I can just head straight home, it’s no…”

“Is that Scott?” Tessa’s voice sounds like it’s coming closer and then she’s at her mom’s side, beckoning him in. “Come in, come in.” 

“I just wanted to talk to you about, um…” When he looks up after taking off his shoes he sees that Tessa is dressed in a pair of fluffy pyjamas dotted with penguins, her hair up in a messy bun. “The penguins are wearing skates.”

She looks down at her pyjamas and then up at him again, her cheeks pink. “They are. These are my favourite cosy ones.”

“They’re very cute.” She’s very cute. 

Kate looks from him to Tessa and back again. “How about I go make some tea and leave you two to chat? Best for no caffeine at this time I think, peppermint, chamomile?” Scott’s ready to agree out of politeness even though he doesn’t care for either when Kate’s face brightens. “Oh, I know, how about hot chocolate?”

“Yes please,” he and Tessa say, both laughing when they realise they’ve spoken at the same time. 

Kate goes to the kitchen while Tessa leads him into the living room. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” she says as she sits down on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, I should have let you rest and spend time with your mom…”

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing.” She pats the space beside her but Scott doesn’t feel like he can sit down. He’s got too much nervous energy for that.

“I, uh, I’ve come to ask you something,” he starts, doing his best to stay rooted in his spot. “And I just want to make it clear that you don’t have to have an answer now, or ever. Well, actually I would need an answer sometime.” He’s using his hands way too much so he puts them down at his sides. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re under any obligation to say yes, and I totally understand if you need some space from skating right now or you don’t think we’d suit but…” He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs up with air and then exhaling as slowly as he can when he feels like his heart is beating out of his chest. “I wanted to ask you if you’d consider skating with me.” He swallows hard and he sees Tessa’s throat bob too. “As my partner.”

Tessa blinks twice, joining her hands together in her lap. “You want me?” she asks, her voice soft and… wistful maybe? 

“Of course. Who wouldn’t? You’re amazing.” How could that even be a question? 

She moves about, almost like she’s about to tuck her knees up under her chin before thinking better of it. She won’t look at him anymore so Scott starts worrying at the hem of his shirt just to have something to do. “But, Scott, you’re… you’re such a special skater.”

He used to think that about himself, but he’s not so sure anymore. Not after his time away from competing, not now that he’s seen Tessa’s brilliance up close and in the circle of his own arms. “I have talent, and I work hard, but… Tessa, you’re special. There’s no one who dances the way you do.” She shakes her head a little, but it’s the truth. “And today, when we skated together…” Surely she felt it too?

Her eyes cut to his quick, the green shining just like they had on the ice. “It’s never been like that before. I don’t know when skating ever felt so easy, or so fun.” She licks her lips and suddenly she seems a little far away, like she’s back in the rink, and he feels it too, can almost smell the ice and hear their blades.

He nods, hand coming to rest over his heart. “For me too.” Scott rocks back and forth on his heels as he clears his throat. “So… do you want to try and keep doing that? Really make a go of things?” He feels hopeful now, his nerves more excited than painful. “Do you want to be my partner?” 

“Yes,” she says, quietly at first so that he questions whether he’s hearing what he wants to hear. Her smile is small, teeth hidden behind her lips, but she lights up in a way that Scott’s never seen. “Yes, of course I do.” 

She gets up and walks over to him, her steps slow at first before she almost runs and then jumps up into his arms. He holds her tight and swings her around, smiling so hard that his lips might crack. Tessa seems just as excited as he does when he sets her down, his arms still around her, and it hits him all over again just how gorgeous she is, those bright green eyes shining and that beautiful smile.

He could kiss her. _ Fuck _, he wants to kiss her. But they’re going to skate together. Now might not be the right time. There might never be a right time. Mixing business and pleasure never had any winners.

Tessa squeezes his shoulders. “I can’t wait to skate with you again,” she says, joy and excitement and anticipation clear. 

Scott pulls her in for another hug, remembering what it had been like, the two of them on the ice skating like they were meant for each other. “Me too. I can’t wait to get started.”

They’re going to be skating partners, and that’s more than he could have asked for. It’s what he wants more than anything. 

It’s going to be great. 

  
  



End file.
